


Variety

by WahlBuilder



Category: Venom (Comics), Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Anal Sex, Mirror Sex, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Experimentation, Vagina Dentata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 13:12:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15774786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Eddie's darling is randy and wants to try something new.





	Variety

Eddie bends over the sink, looking at is reflection in the foggy mirror. He needs a haircut, but that can wait. What he needs more is a shave, he thinks as he runs a hand over the stubble covering his jaw.

A tendril strokes his left ankle.

Eddie smiles—not to himself, but at the tentative touch. “What is it, love? Hot shower not enough for you?”

His darling can linger in warm water for hours, spreading over the walls to catch the mist of shower, or playing with bubbles in the bathtub. Their favorite bath foam scent is, naturally, chocolate.

His darling is squirming—in their mindspace, under his skin. It’s a tingly sensation. The tendril wraps itself around his ankle, creeps up, gathering droplets of water still clinging to his skin. More feelers appear from under Eddie’s soles and sling over his feet, nudging him to adjust his stance.

Eddie keeps his gaze on his reflection, his darling’s intent clear. “Really? Like this? If I fall and hit my head—”

**“Won’t fall, Eddie. Support you. Catch you. Promise.”**

Eddie knows it. He exhales, shifting his weight onto his hands pressed on the sink. “All right. I trust you.”

His darling flutters up in their mindspace, and more tendrils shoot up.

It is slow, stroking, creeping up and up, winding around his legs, his thighs. Some tendrils are simply stroking skin, some are pressing into the muscle. Some are smooth, others have soft barbs, providing additional sensation. Catching on small imperfections of his skin.

Eddie sighs, closes his eyes.

**“No, Eddie. Watch.”**

He meets his gaze in the mirror. It is—

**“—beautiful.”**

Eddie smiles at the word. He watches as though from some distance. The angle doesn’t allow the full view of his body, but the tendrils have reached his hips already, barbs pressing into the bone and leaving red impressions on the skin.

He’s hard and leaking.

A hand appears on his waist, sliding from behind in a tender caress—huge and beclawed. It flattens on his abdomen, claws pointing down, scratching his skin lightly.

He doubles down—almost. Sweat is gathering over his upper lip.

 **“Need another shower, Eddie,”** his darling purrs, not in his mind, but from behind him.

It’s difficult to keep his eyes open, more so to not whine or beg. His arms are trembling on the sink. “Definitely,” Eddie manages, although he’s not sure what was the question or whether there was one at all.

It’s all torturously slow.

His darling is purring low, in their mindspace, in their physical space. Eddie feels like he has waded to the waist into a warm bath.

**“Bath later, Eddie.”**

Eddie smiles again, focusing on his reflection in the mirror. He’s a sight: pupils blown, cheeks, neck, his chest all flushed, lips wet. A thick tendril slithers over his right shoulder and up his throat. And nudges his lips. He opens his mouth and moans around it as it slides in. It’s thick just enough to stretch his lips to the point of stinging pain.

His want doesn’t have a particular form—it simply _is_ , constant, unwavering, with a counterpart in his darling.

**“Always.”**

His darling touches behind his sack—just a brush, but it makes Eddie stand on his toes—or try to: the black mass has enveloped him completely from the waist down, a rippling living pool—only his cock is jutting out, untouched and glistening.

His head is swimming.

**“All right, Eddie?”**

The tendril in his mouth pulls out, Eddie cranes his neck after it but lets it go. It is wet with his saliva. “All right. Just… please.”

**“Please what, Eddie?”**

Eddie meets the eyes of his reflection, and for a moment they flicker white. “Please take me.”

**“Hold on.”**

He moves his hands to grip the edges of the sink. He promises he won’t look away—but his eyes flutter closed when his darling—thick, ridged, wet—breaches him.

 **“Eddie. Watch.”** A tendril tilts his chin up. He tries to open his eyes, but all his attention is on the feeling of being full, fuller than a few hours ago. His darling likes pushing him to his limits. Eddie feels complete.

He yelps from a stinging slap to his ass, but finally looks at himself. “Darling…” he breathes out. The ridged thick thing in him is pulsing rhythmically.

 **“Hmm, what, Eddie?”** A dark purr—as though he doesn’t know what Eddie wants.

Eddie tries to rock back onto it—but he’s completely immobilised. He moans. “Move!”

The delay is torturous, too, and he hears his darling’s chuckle. Then they pull out.

_Slowly._

Eddie feels every ridge on it, catching on the rim of his hole. It feels like this moment will never stop—but then his darling slams back into him.

**“Watch, Eddie.”**

He watches. His beloved is relentless: a slow pull-out followed by a bone-shaking thrust in. Eddie thinks he can see a small bulge in his abdomen on every thrust, just under those long beclawed fingers still holding him.

He’s floating.

Feelers spread over his torso, his arms, splitting into thin threads. Melding with his skin, like a web of black blood vessels. The mass around his legs is getting hotter, pulsating in time with the thrusts.

The hand on his abdomen doesn’t move—but his darling is expanding in his mind. Eddie wets his lips with a too-long tongue. “I’m—” He arches with a wordless cry as something tight clamps on his cock—tight and wet and with _teeth_.

Eddie’s vision goes white.

He shudders, spending in long spurts into that wetness. A hand strokes up his spine. His darling is humming something in their mindspace. **“Eddie?”**

He shivers and tips forward, but the hand on his abdomen moves up his chest, tilting him backward, to rest his weight on a broad chest. Eddie watches in dazed amazement as the black mass around his legs lowers itself—not without final licks to his skin. “Vagina dentata?” he asks weakly.

**“Variety is the spice of life.”**

He groans and smacks his darling on the side. “You are ruining me.”

A long tongue licks the sweat off his neck with a very wet sound. **“Good. Only mine, Eddie.”**

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this picture](http://symbiocide.tumblr.com/post/29678239169).


End file.
